


Broken

by My_Young_Friend



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Young_Friend/pseuds/My_Young_Friend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn't give her that satisfaction</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

In the humid heat of the shack, sweat dripped regularly onto the floor. _Dripdripdrip_ in quick succession from his head, hanging limply away from the wall. The leather restraints ground roughly into his wrists, so deep that he could feel streaks running down his arms and drops falling from his fingertips._ Drip. Drip._

Not quite as fast as the sweat. That was good, wasn't it? Meant the blood wasn't flowing as quickly? He hadn't paid much attention to first aid training at the Precinct. Did they cover things like this? Well, not exactly like this, but it was good that the blood was dripping more slowly, wasn't it? It must be good, just like thinking was good. Thinking his own thoughts. Not having to listen to other people's, especially hers. What she made him see: Janice, the baby, the bullets, Audrey, Ted's body; that was bad enough. He tried not to look into what she was thinking.

He was slumped forwards now, too tired to stand up straight, even as the leather bands wore their way through his wrists and shins. So tired. So tempted to just throw in the towel. But she'd told him what would happen when he gave in. Couldn't give in. _Wouldn't_ give in.

Candice ran a hand through his hair, twisting the strands between her fingers. He hated it, she knew he hated it and _he_ knew that _she_ knew. But he was too tired to fight that now. She could have that little victory.

Her hand moved down his cheek, stroking pathways through the glistening sweat. She bowed her head slightly, positioning it so close to his that every hot breath was an added torture. She cradled his jaw with one hand and brushed the moisture from his forehead with the other. The _dripdripdrip_ ceased. Only the slower, more worrying trickle continued.

She'd stopped using Janice. That had always made him more determined to resist and she'd learned that now. These days it was only her; whispering, promising, tempting. She spoke softly to him, like a lover's murmur – comforting and enticing.

"Just let go, Parkman," she breathed, and from any other lips it would sound so sweet. He tried to focus on the other sound in the room.

_Drip._

He didn't have the energy to move as she kissed him, her lips barely stroking his. It was chaste, she never pressed him. He knew she was waiting; she wanted him to invite her in.

"I'll make it all go away." And she would, he knew she would. She'd change the whole world around him if he asked. He shouldn't ask. He _couldn't_ ask.

_Drip._

"I'm not going to stop." It was starting again. The same speech, every day.

"I'm going to keep going until you break." He had to remember to fight. But he was so tired.

_Drip._

 "And when you break, I'll take care of you." His head sagged further down. Maybe he could pass out, put this off a little longer.

_Drip._

"Then we'll be together. Broken. Forever."

_Drip. Drip. Drip._


End file.
